


And In Your Lips I Find Salvation

by fluidtime



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel/Top Sam Winchester, Exploration, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 00:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13986351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluidtime/pseuds/fluidtime
Summary: Sam can’t get the words Castiel first spoke to him out of his head. They keep rattling around and he’s sure the angel hates him. So when Cas appears one night, and Sam’s completely alone, he thinks it must be a mistake, but it’s anything but.aka Castiel is struggling with his feelings for Sam, Sam is always struggling with his feelings of worthlessness, and the two of them fuck it out.Takes place after 4.16 On the Head of a Pin





	And In Your Lips I Find Salvation

His voice was low and gravely, harsh and like nothing Sam ever imagined an angel to ever sound like. Castiel had been cold, distant and mechanical to the point where it was difficult to think of angels as the beings full of compassion and grace that he envisioned for his entire life. These were the creatures that had been heralding his prayers for the past twenty years? No wonder they all went unanswered...

 

_“Sam Winchester. The boy with the demon blood. I’m glad to hear you’ve ceased your extracurricular activities.”_

 

Those words frequently floated around Sam’s mind, especially at night where there was quiet with nothing to distract him. The thinly veiled threat rattled his senses and brought a mix of guilt and resentment to knot his stomach. Although he didn’t believe that he deserved and angel’s scorn after all the good he attempted to accomplish in his life, he also felt bad trying to justify any of the lowly actions that he had succumbed to in his times of despair.

 

But still… wasn’t Dean just as much to blame for any supernatural situation as he was? Why was there this invisible line of righteousness that seemed to separate him and his brother and what could he possibly do to put himself onto the right side?

 

Yeah, he knows drinking demon blood was wrong, is wrong, despite the fact that he can’t _actually_ pinpoint the bad that it brings about, but he’s tried to cease the practice and it still doesn’t seem to have put him into any good books. Dean sins too, why isn’t he under the metaphorical holy fire?

 

It doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s not a competition, he reminds himself. Maybe it’s this linear way of thinking that’s bringing him down. As long as he’s doing good to avoid punishment, it’s not sufficient. He has to do good because it’s inherently the right thing.

 

Although isn’t the whole practice of institutionalized religion a scare tactic in and of itself? “Don’t sin lest you be condemned to hell.” Maybe the angels are being slightly hypocritical in their judgement of him. Or maybe not. Sam buries his face in his pillow and wishes for his head to clear, for the thoughts rolling around to simply cease so that he can fall asleep and at least catch a few hours before his brother stumbles back into the room at three or four in the morning, drunk and needing assistance to get himself into bed.

 

There wasn’t a sound or any discernible movement that indicated anything different in the room except for a sudden prickling of hairs on the back of Sam’s neck. He reached over the side of the bed and grabbed the loaded Taurus that was wedged between the mattress and dresser, quickly turning around and aiming into the air, cocking the pistol in the process.

 

Sam had to think that he was probably out of practice considering he almost dropped the gun in surprise. There, sitting on the edge of the second bed, hunched over, was Castiel, hair wild and clothing pristine, as usual.

 

“Um,” Sam lowered his weapon before raising it again with a sudden thought, “uh, sorry, I don’t mean to offend, but I don’t exactly know you’re not a shapeshifter or something.”

 

The angel looked up, meeting his eyes in a piercing gaze that seemed more analytical than anything else. Sam stood, conscious of the fact that he was dressed in nothing but boxers, and made his way over to the worn, wood table in the corner of their room that held the knives they had finished cleaning and sharpening that afternoon. He never broke eye contact with Castiel, and fumbled blindly for the silver blade, quickly gripping its handle and walking towards the newcomer in the room.

 

He finally, however, lowered the gun and set it aside, the knife comfortably falling into a nonchalant defensive position as he crossed the dingy carpet. The angel held his hand out without being prompted and Sam, as gently as could be warranted, ran the blade against his arm.

 

Nothing significant happened except the tanned skin knitting itself together almost as quickly as the mark was made. There was no bubbling or pus and Sam flinched, wondering if he had just offended Castiel. He couldn’t really be to blame though, could he? Paranoia went hand in hand with the Hunter job title.

 

Nevertheless he mumbled out an apology, explaining that he just had to be sure.

 

“I understand and expected no less,” was the response he got, the voice seeming to resonate in the quiet of the room.

 

Sam sat across from him after laying the knife down on the bedside table. The small gap between the beds put an uncomfortable foot of distance between their knees, but if Castiel noticed, he didn’t comment on it. Sam was weary, but the angel’s eyes never wavered, never blinked. Sam shifted before clearing his throat.

 

“So, uh, my brother’s out. He probably won’t be back until late.” Sam let out a small sigh when there was no response. “I can tell you where he is, although he probably won’t be in a state to do… well, anything really.”

 

He let out a forced chuckle, looking away before glancing back to find Cas’ eyes still pinned to his. “Are you okay?” he asks, mentally chastising himself for that not being his first question. He starts towards the angel, but pulls back, realizing that he probably wouldn’t want someone he sees as tainted touching him. “Is everything okay?”

 

There’s more silence and Sam continues to search Castiel for answers. Nothing seems out of place except for his demeanor, and even then, Sam doesn’t necessarily know the angel that well. He would have no clue what’s truly out of character for an ancient, holy being.

 

After a few more moments of silence, Castiel speaks, breaking eye contact to look down at his hands, threaded together in his lap. “I’m confused.”

 

Sam nods and briefly thinks, that makes the both of them, but he simply voices a meek, “oh.”

 

“It’s not supposed to be this way. I’m not supposed to feel this way. You,” he looks up suddenly, staring at Sam, “you aren’t supposed to be like this.”

 

“Uh-” Sam stutters out, not sure at all what he’s getting at.

 

“You are _so_ good,” his head falls into his hands muffling the next words slightly. “I never expected such sincerity to flow through your veins. You’re conviction is,” he sighs and looks up at Sam, “miraculous.”

 

Sam’s breath catches and a million things rush through his mind. Doubt and questioning chief among them. Is this a test? But Castiel looks so sincere sitting before him, almost imploring him to respond.

 

“I’m flattered Cas, but miraculous… that’s a heavy descriptor, especially coming from an angel.”

 

“It’s true.”

 

Sam almost laughed at the petulance in his voice and briefly wondered if perhaps the angel was drunk. Could angels even get drunk?

 

“Cas, what happened? No offense man, but you don’t seem like yourself.”

 

“I was reprimanded today. In Heaven. They believe I’m getting too close to my charge,” he lifts a brow and tilts his head, “to Dean.” He takes an unnecessary breath, a habit he’s picked up in his brief time on earth. “They say that I’m beginning to question.”

 

“Question what.”

 

“Anything. Everything? Orders, right, wrong. Fate.” He gives a humorless chuckle. “Whether or not I prefer the rain to snow.”

 

Sam snorts. “Why would they care about your weather preferences?”

 

“Because it indicates attachment and investment in something human.”

 

“What?” Sam shakes his head. “The weather isn’t human, we don’t control it.”

 

“But it affects you. What do angels care if it’s freezing or not? Heaven isn’t affected. The apocalypse doesn’t care.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to wrangle his thoughts. He needed to speak more clearly, _make_ Sam understand.

 

“There isn’t a reason that I prefer the rain. One could fabricate a meaning based on statistics or truths, but that isn’t _why_ I like the sound or the smell. There is no explanation for the sense of calm that washes over me when listening to the pounding of droplets on a window. It’s simply how I feel. Angels aren’t supposed to feel.”

 

“That’s stupid, and I’m sorry to be blunt,” he amends quickly as Cas’ attention smartly snaps back to him, “but everything feels. Maybe to differing degrees, but humans, animals, hell even the monsters we kill, feel.”

 

“I’m not sure if that’s reassuring or not.”

 

Sam smiles. “So,” he hedges, elongating the o slightly, “do you enjoy feeling?”

 

A crinkle appears in Castiel’s brow. “I’m not sure. Sometimes it’s nice, but sometimes it is unimaginably frustrating. I can know the answer to something or the correct response to a situation, but because I feel a different way, I resist whatever logic dictates, and I know this, but it’s almost as if I don’t care, or at least, I care more about my subjective opinion than about the evidence.”

 

Sam nods at him to continue.

 

“I’m beginning to question everything. Your fate, Heaven's plans, it all seems unnecessary and cruel.” He looks into the hunter’s eyes. “You don’t deserve what’s in store for you, Sam. I wish I knew how to prevent everything that’s happening.”

 

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re doing our best to stop the seals from breaking and we’ll keep fighting. Dean and I, we won’t give up, and as much shit as Dean probably gives you, your presence in our lives has made things easier. We can safeguard the seals and avert the apocalypse.”

 

“That’s not- God, look at you, your soul.” He reaches out a palm and places it over Sam’s heart and Sam swears it skips a beat at the contact. “I’ve never seen anything so pure.”

 

They sit there like that, Sam taking deep breaths, trying to sate his frantic nerves. Castiel’s thumb brushes against his skin and it feels like rivulets of electricity buzzing in its wake.

 

“Dean hates me,” he finally states, eyes following the movement of his thumb across Sam’s skin. “I make his life miserable and am a constant nuisance to him and he has every right to dislike me. Every conversation between us devolves into pointless bickering. He is exactly what I expected him to be and what I expected humanity to be.”

 

Cas removes his hand and Sam wants to pull it back, but restrains himself, fingers winding in the fabric of the covers beneath him.

 

“You see so much good in this world and in the people who inhabit it even though you are constantly surrounded by anomalies and events that could make you doubt. I come into your life with insults and threats and I may have lost some of the reverence that you previously gazed upon me with, but you have still never treated me less because of it. Even tonight, when I interrupt you, demand your time and keep you up with my problems and complaints, you have shown me nothing but respect and compassion.

 

“Heaven was wrong,” Castiel lamented, shaking his head, “I am hardly closer to Dean than the day I ripped him from Hell’s grasp. With you, however, I feel indescribable. When I’m near you there are physical sensations that seem to have nothing to do with my vessel. My chest constricts and my stomach feels as if it’s about to bubble over, but this body is in no real danger and a part of me thinks I would feel this way even in my true form.

 

“I have the desire to impress you, as if I only want you to see the facets of me that make me proud. I think back to our first meeting frequently and feel shame and embarrassment. I feel regret at my actions and words and all of this is so overwhelming. I’ve never felt before, but when I look at you it’s as if the world explodes into a million possibilities depending on which desire I follow and I feel like I can feel anything.”

 

Sam’s pulse is racing, breaths coming short and he’s not convinced that he won’t pass out. This whole confession has to be a dream or some sort of cosmic joke. There’s no way that an _angel_ feels even a shred of what Castiel just confessed, not about him.

 

“When I touched you before,” Cas mutters, leaning closer into Sam’s space, “that spark, did you feel it?”

 

Sam nods in response.

  
“There’s nothing there, no magic or science, but I felt it as well. Isn’t that a miracle?” he reaches his hand out to place it against Sam’s chest again, but then thinks better of it, pauses halfway there. “May I?”

 

Instead of an answer, Sam’s large hand wraps around his wrist, and pulls Cas’ palm up so that he can place a chaste kiss to the flat of his hand, never breaking eye contact with the angel in front of him. He can hear Castiel gasp, an almost silent intake of air. He can see those blue irises shrink as his pupils are blown wide, accidentally exhaling onto his skin in response, still nearly pressed to his mouth. He can see goosebumps erupt up his arm before settling back down.

 

“You should despise me,” Castiel mumbles, eyes riveted to the almost-connection between Sam’s mouth and his hand.

 

“I don’t,” Sam stated simply, plucking the courage up to lightly kiss each pad of Castiel’s fingers.

 

When he finished, Cas’ hand slipped behind Sam’s neck to grip the hair at his nape, slowly pulling the hunter towards him, tentatively slotting their lips together in a warm press of wet heat. He could hear Sam groan as the large man surged forward, tongue probing at the chapped lips of his vessel. The space between them began to close before Cas decided to match Sam’s vigor, pushing back so that he straddled his legs across Sam’s lap and wrapped his other hand around Sam’s neck, the hunter’s head cradled in his grasp. Large hands moved back to cup his ass, hauling him closer so that there wasn’t any air between them, chests touching and the long length of Sam’s dick pressed against his inner thigh, making him so aware of the near nakedness of his partner.

 

His grip tightened around Sam, thoroughly licking his way into the concave of his mouth, eager to taste the mingled wet of their saliva. Sam moaned in response, the sound muffled by Cas’ tongue. He thrust up against the angel and was soon pushed back into the bed, blanketed by the weight of Castiel, who’s fingertips had pulled away to lightly travel down the plane of Sam’s stomach, hooking into his boxers and shoving down. He awkwardly kicked at the material to remove it completely, and blushed when realizing that he was completely naked while Cas was fully clothed.

 

Before Sam could move to undo some of his buttons -- at least push the trenchcoat off, Castiel shifted so that his lips were trailing down Sam’s neck, lavishing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin. Sam keened and gripped the back of his head tight as the angel bit down, lightly sucking to mark with purple spots.

 

He kitten licked his way back up to Sam’s ear before covering it with his mouth and stroking the top conch twice, pulling away and capturing the lobe between his teeth, toying with Sam’s sensitivity to see what moans and groans he would make under his ministrations.

 

His hands were placed flat along Sam’s abs, and they began to sink lower, teasing at the curl of brown hair leading down, Sam rutting up, desperate for contact and sure that he was staining Cas’ black slacks with the precome dripping from his cock.

 

Warm fingers slid next to his balls, only slightly making contact, fondling at the skin just next to where they lay. It was maddening the way he could rub so closely, but never give any more stimulation than he intended. Finally, two fingers pressed against his taint, pulling forward so that they gently separated his balls while skimming his sac, trailing up his shaft and pausing to press a finger against his slit where a pearl of white was threatening to roll down.

 

“Cas,” was uttered in a broken moan.

 

The angel growled, removing his hand so that he could roll his hips against Sam’s arousal. “Yes,” he whispered, gripping onto Sam’s sides, “say my name, it sounds so heavenly on your lips.”

 

Another groan before Sam managed to stutter out a desperate “Castiel,” pulling the angel’s head back up to fervently kiss him as he finally got his hands to work, gripping the back of the trench coat's collar to pull it down and popping the buttons on his blazer so that he could discard the offending article as well.

 

Cas reached up to loosen his tie, but Sam’s hand covered his own, making him pause.

 

“Keep it on? I like it,” he said, smiling on Cas’ mouth, their kiss hardly broken by the interruption.

 

So instead, he let his hands fall, allowing Sam to unbutton his white shirt, carefully pulling it from his neck while leaving the blue tie in its place. In his complacency, he was unexpectedly flipped and gently set on the the bed, Sam pushing him down so that he was mostly sitting, somewhat slouched, against the headboard.

 

The hunter pulled away, Castiel whimpering at the loss of contact. His legs were splayed obscenely against the quilt beneath him, a noticeable tent in his pants, but Sam started at his feet, pulling them into his lap and untying the dress shoes that pinched his toes, pulling them off to discard them off the edge of the bed.

 

He gripped each sock one at a time and slowly rolled them off Cas’ skin and tossing them into the discarded pile of clothing. His fingers curled around the ball of his left foot and pressed into the skin making small circles.

 

Castiel let his head fall back with a _thunk_ against the mahogany and let out a deep groan as Sam continued to work his foot. He jumped when Sam placed a kiss into the arch and moved on to the right side.

 

“Ticklish?” he asked, curious.

 

“No, just surprised.”

 

Sam chuckled and finished the short massage, placing a kiss to the other foot as well, appreciating the cleanliness that came with supernatural entities that _didn’t_ have to sweat all day.

 

He shifted onto his knees, sliding his hands up Cas’ legs, then thighs, coming to a rest on the shiny silver of his belt buckle. The angel thrust up, and Sam gracefully unthreaded the leather so that he could pull open the button and zipper and push his pants and boxers down with one movement, following the fabric so that he could remove it completely without getting Cas’ legs tangled in the material.

 

The slow and reverent way Sam treated Castiel heightened his arousal immeasurably and as his cock first hit the cool air of the hotel room, he couldn’t help but to thrust up into the nothing, silently begging Sam for something, anything, “please, _Sam_.”

 

Sam looked up at the angel laid out before him, naked except the tie around his neck, and dipped down to whisper against his ear, “what Castiel? What do you want me to do?”

 

“ _Use me._ ”

 

Sam growled at that, pulling back so that he stood on his knees above the angels lap, fisting his hand in the knot of his tie so that he could pull Cas upwards, fully sitting so that his face was in his groin, the spongy head poking at the pink lips of an angel’s mouth.

 

Without any more prompting, Cas opened his mouth and enveloped Sam, relaxing against the strong push-pull tugs on the tie that guided him. He soon found his nose buried in the thatch of pubic hair, Sam’s long cock down his throat, holding him there. He attempted to swallow, flexing the muscles, causing Sam to grip him closer for a second more before pulling back and spearing the thick mucus against his lips.

 

When he didn’t gasp or even inhale as his airways were freed, it clicked for Sam. “Fuck, you don’t need to breathe, do you?”

 

Cas shook his head, eyes locked with Sam’s.

 

“Fuck,” was muttered as he slammed back into the angel’s mouth, pausing for a moment to collect himself so that he didn’t come on the spot, absentmindedly stroking the outside of Cas’ throat, feeling his cock through the skin.

 

“Fuck that’s hot,” he murmured again, thrusting in and out of his mouth, one hand still wound through the fabric of the tie, the other knotted in the mess of black hair.

 

Sometimes when he pulled out, Cas’ tongue would flick around his head or undulate against his shaft, but mostly his jaw hung open, warm and wet as he allowed Sam to use his mouth, occasionally groaning at the hunter’s huffs, eyes never breaking contact with the hazel above him.

 

He thrust in once more, inserting his thumb alongside his length before pulling out and leaning down to kiss Cas, devouring his mouth, and letting them both relax down into the bed.

 

He hovered over Castiel, who was on his back, legs parted so that Sam fit perfectly between them. He began to pepper kisses over the angel’s cheeks and jaw, licking a stripe down his neck before placing a surprisingly tender kiss to the hollow of skin above Cas’ chest. He followed the lean lines of muscle, stopping at his nipples and taking one into his mouth, flicking his tongue gently against the nub, quickly puckering under his ministrations.

 

He pulled back and let a puff of air out, Cas uttering a small gasp at his sensitivity. He switched to the other nipple, following the same course but pulling his hand up so that he could absentmindedly play with the one he just released. Castiel was squirming, his body rubbing against Sam in a way that he swore was driving him mad and eventually he completely blanketed the angel’s body in an attempt to still him.

 

The pressure of Sam’s weight was comforting and while it couldn’t physically hold his strength, Cas could feel his muscles relaxing in response. As if able to tell, Sam quickly shifted, tracing the contours of his stomach, only slightly soft with his vessel’s age, causing him to tense, skin twitching. It was like he wanted to pull away and press close at the same time, the sensations mind-blowingly overwhelming.

 

“Sam, _Sam,”_ he breathed, eyes squinting shut.

 

The hunter chuckled, dipping his tongue into his bellybutton and giving a light suck. He continued to nose down, paying ample attention to Castiel’s hip bones, nosing alongside them and occasionally tasting his skin. There wasn’t the familiar salt of sweat that people normally exuded, instead a faint sweetness left behind.

 

He lavished a couple large licks against Cas before giving a breathy laugh and pausing with his cheek against him, facing the slightly curved length of the angel’s cock.

 

“Do you taste- is it normal for you to-” Sam cut himself off again and inhaled, but nothing but the musk of sex and wet precome met his senses.

 

“Sam?” he asked, tilting his head up away from the bed to glance down at the mop of brown hair snuggled to his side.

 

“There’s something almost sweet about you, but it’s almost,” he turned his head so that he could lightly nip at him, “it’s so faint I can barely detect it. Is that normal?” he added hesitantly, hoping that he didn’t scare the angel away at this point after all that transpired.

 

“Oh, uh, it could be my grace coming through, or perhaps not. I don’t really know, this is new to me, I’ve never…” he trailed off.

 

It was Sam’s turn to quirk a brow, looking up so that he met Cas’ piercing gaze. “Never..?” he made a small, almost unnoticeable gesture to their naked forms. The angel simply shook his head.

 

Sam smiled and rolled back between Castiel’s legs, settling down so that they were tossed over Sam’s shoulders, his hands cupping his cheeks, thumbs digging into the skin so that he could part them, exposing the furl of pink between.

 

He lightly licked over the puckered skin and Cas’ legs clamped around his head before relaxing, ever aware of the fragility of the human beneath him. Sam exhaled and watched the twitch of muscle beneath him before covering Castiel’s hole with his mouth and lavishing wet strokes over and into his body, slowly working his way towards an unquantifiable heat, Castiel relaxing with every flourish of his tongue before subconsciously grinding onto Sam’s face.  His eyes are squeezed shut and he gasps in surprise as Sam probes further. He grips his hand through Sam’s locks and pulls him closer, causing the hunter to chuckle briefly.

 

A finger breaches him, sliding in easily alongside Sam’s tongue, rubbing at his sensitive walls, shoving Sam’s saliva further into him, causing desperate and needy whimpers to fall from his lips, encouraging this exploration of his flesh.

 

Sam removes his mouth and lazily thrusts two fingers in and out, making sure to drag the pad of his fingers over the soft, fleshy walls of Cas’ inside. He kisses up the angel’s chest and is pulled up the rest of the way so that their lips once more slot together, the heady tangle of their mouths causing Sam’s fingers to stutter as he scissors Cas open and works a third one inside, still able to continue his languid thrusts, lightly tugging at his rim on each pass out.

 

Sam deepens their kiss once more before pulling back and whispering, “one minute,” so that his breath ghosted over Castiel as he stood up and walked towards Dean’s duffle, rifling around the unorganized contents since he _knew_ that his brother had to have lube here _somewhere._

 

Finally, his hand closed around a small bottle, and he turned back toward Castiel who was still sprawled across his bed. The angel’s fingers were lightly playing with his rim, exploring the loosened, gaping hole still shiny with spit, on display for Sam and he groaned, gripping his dick tightly in an attempt to exert some self control.

 

He climbed back onto the bed and over Cas, ineptly grasping at the cap before he was able to pop it open and squish an oversized dollop on his fingers, rubbing them together before pressing them past Cas’ entrance and carefully pushing in beside his own fingers so that they brushed against each other inside the angel, alternating the in and out of their thrusts.

 

Sam crooked his digit forward and pressed against his prostate with the slightest movement that caused Castiel to see stars and fall back against the bed, removing his hands from himself and instead curling them into the blanket beneath him.

 

“Sam please,” he begged, voice scratchy and low with arousal, hips canting up to meet Sam’s movements.

 

Sam quickly dislodged his fingers and lifted himself so that he hovered over Castiel, one arm supporting his weight, the other wrapped around his length, guiding himself into the angel, pushing past the hint of resistance to fully sheth himself in the wet heat, their groans simultaneously mingling in the air.

 

He dropped to his elbows, one hand gripping the side of Cas’ face, the other gripped tightly to the azure tie still around his neck, pulling out and pushing in gently before Castiel met his movements and growled out, “I am not fragile, Sam.”

 

He slammed back in, the sound of his balls slapping against the angel’s taint echoing the squelch of sex between them as Sam’s cock plunged in and out of Castiel’s hole. Fuck, it felt so good.

 

Sam tugged at the tie again, urging Cas to pull forward, kissing him again, distractedly licking at his lips mouths always touching so that their breath panted against each other as they both edged towards release.

 

He released the grip on the tie so that Cas’ head relaxed back onto the pillow and he was able to dip down and press their foreheads together, his thrusts slowing to an almost maddening pace, their eyes locking in an almost trance-like state.

 

“Fuck, you feel good,” Sam growled, almost swearing that he could see a hint of a smile on the creature’s face, “you’re amazing, and not just here,” he thrust in, “in bed, but as you continue to guide us, help us face whatever evil or prophecy that’s unfolding,” he began to pick the up the pace of his thrusting, “you are genuinely amazing and awe inspiring.”

 

“ _Sam_ ,” Castiel growled, lunging up to kiss him and flipping them both, with a graceful strength obviously beyond human, so that he was on top of Sam, able to lift himself and fall back, riding the hunter and placing his palms against Sam’s chest so that he could feel the rippling of muscles beneath him and the constant, subtle pumping of his heart.

 

Sam’s voice devolved into heady whispers and mumblings of “Cas, _Cas_ ,” as he gripped the angel’s hips tightly and thrust up, balls pulsing as he spilled into the angel, his hand quickly moving to envelop Castiel’s cock, deftly stroking him so that he came, painting Sam’s toned abs with white.

 

As the hunter caught his breath in heavy pants, Castiel gathered some of his come onto his fingers and pressed them against Sam’s lips. He willfully opened his mouth, sucking the digits down to their roots and making sure to lavish the attention of his tongue on the pads of Cas’ skin.

 

He leaned down for one last, indulgent kiss before Sam turned away, dislodging him, so that he was able to slip next to Sam, pulling a discarded blanket over them and cradling the hunter’s form against his chest.

 

“Dean will be back soon,” Castiel stated, somehow able to keep the wealth of emotion locked away from his voice.

 

“I know,” was the murmured response, Sam snuggling deeper into the covers and further into Cas’ pliant arms.

 

“I will not be here when you wake.”

 

“I know,” he replied once more, already half gone, sleep tugging at him so strongly that he didn’t feel the angel disappear.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was written for a SCMB forever ago that I (obviously) missed the deadline for and it's literally been sitting in my drafts folder, practically completed, since. I've decided to polish it off and post it, so here it is. I have a lot of work that's several years old but mostly complete that I'm trying to wrap up. It feels weird because my writing has changed, but I don't feel like completely overhauling everything, so we're just left with shit like this.
> 
> Anyway, I hope yall enjoyed it, and if you happen to be following along with Can't Buy Me love, I'm still working my way through the next chapter so it'll be up when it's up. I'm trying not to die with my workload right now, so that's slowing down the rate at which I produce stuff.


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